The chains shattered, and the relief that flooded his wrists was indescribable.
Without noticing when it had happened, the weight he had carried on his back vanished. A sigh slipped from his lips, involuntary.
Mordret's heart pounded fast. Power surged through his veins like a river held back for years, finally breaking through the dam.
His figure reflected in the mirrors around him, multiplied endlessly. In every version of himself, the same satisfied smile lingered.
Without hesitation, he stepped forward and passed through the mirror before him.
The world changed.
No—it revealed itself to him.
It was wonderful, breathtaking…
Divine.
The reflection of every being—organic or inorganic, physical or spiritual—existed there. Everything had a mirror. It was an almost perfect copy of reality… except for one crucial detail.
There, nothing could stop him.
Not anymore.
Whistling softly, he walked through walls as if they were mist. His former prison now seemed small, insignificant. Even so, he didn't spare a final glance at the place where he had spent years.
"Goodbye, home not-so-sweet home…" he murmured, with mild irony.
He shot through the inner sanctuary. Just the sight of it made him nauseous; every fiber of his being rejected that temple.
"Never again… never again will we be prisoners."
In the blink of an eye, he reached an occupied chamber.
He saw Sunless, Cassie, the sentinel, and…
Master Pierce.
Mordret's blood boiled instantly. His instincts screamed to tear the man apart right there, to destroy everything he represented.
But he didn't.
'What a shame…'
Even in ecstasy, he wouldn't let emotion override reason. Facing a Master was still out of the question…
For now.
The man's voice echoed through the temple, thick with terror:
"Seal the temple! Destroy the Portal! Go, now! We can't… we can't let that thing escape…"
Resigned, Mordret pulled back. He moved through reflections, leaping between the Lost's eyes with surgical precision.
"Getting out of here is the best option…"
Mordret wasn't a fool.
Even if he only wanted to eliminate the Masters, he would have to face more than a hundred disciplined Awakened—armed and ready to die if necessary. Turning Awakened into unnecessary enemies would be a mistake.
The massive gate appeared ahead.
His heart hammered in his chest.
Freedom.
The sight of true freedom, free from years of captivity.
Then the gates slammed shut violently.
The world distorted again—not the Mirror World, but the temple itself. It was as if it had been torn from reality, isolated from the outside by an invisible force.
"Shit!"
'Huff… You knew that wouldn't work, and still…'
"Shut up! At least I tried…"
Disappointment hit him like a blunt strike.
But it didn't knock him down.
"Fine. That was just a backup plan. Let's not rush."
Without wasting time, he advanced toward the Portal.
On the other side of the reflections, the citadel had descended into chaos. Beneath a façade of calm, the Lost were tense—the pandemonium was a direct consequence of him.
Awakened in heavy armor wielded lethal weapons, standing in flawless formation.
"Wow… that's a bit much." Even keeping his tone light, cold beads of sweat formed on his forehead.
He wasn't sure whether to feel flattered or insulted that they needed an entire army to contain him.
His breathing grew heavier.
But he didn't slow down.
In the distance, he finally saw the Portal. The pale light cut through the darkness of the Night Temple like a promise.
"Just… a little… more…"
He ran as fast as he could, to the point of becoming a blur.
Still—
It wasn't enough.
A figure suddenly appeared beside the Portal.
"…!"
Mordret launched himself in a desperate leap. His eyes wide, mixing anxiety and belated calculation.
His hand stretched toward the Portal, fingers nearly brushing the luminous surface.
Almost.
The Portal blinked out in a flash.
And was destroyed.
"…" The silence that followed was absolute.
No words left his lips. His face remained expressionless.
'We tried.'
Then his eyes turned red. Pure hatred overflowed from them.
He looked at the one responsible.
It was a young Lost—maybe twenty-six. Blond hair and a strong build gave him the impression of someone reliable.
And his eyes… ah… his eyes.
So confident. Full of life.
They were so hopeful.
That was the problem.
Hope was a sweet poison.
And that fool had gotten drunk on it at the exact moment a monster was set free.
That was his mistake, not Mordret's.
It wasn't Mordret who had been reckless.
It wasn't Mordret who had created false hope…
No, the mistake belonged to the Lost.
And the real Mordret did not let mistakes go unpunished.
Veins bulged in his neck as their gazes locked.
And he dove into his eyes.
But he didn't stop there.
He pushed deeper, tearing through layers of the soul like ripping through successive veils, until he reached the core.
What he found was a radiant sun hovering above an infinite ocean.
And before it, the Awakened.
"Damn… I didn't want it to come to this." A tired sigh escaped him.
The Awakened was stunned, in shock.
'It's just an Awakened. What's the issue?'
"Haa… fine. Let's do this."
And then—
The battle of souls began.